Saturday, 7 March 2015

Hear My Heart


My heart, as much as I give it, 
eventually people will want to rip it apart...
R.I.P, as I am numb to reality, 
balance out others 
un-balance with my own sanity...

I am, not what I want to be, 
but what was bestowed upon me, 
like god put me here as a spark, 
but a spark turns into fire 
can create desire, in truth...

A man who adapts to the muck, 
so I know the mire... 
Heart will soon go 
those close will see an empty soul 
and never will they need to know, 
because if they don't know, 
they'll never know 
will only see my shadow 
not glow; 

But that will never stop the mission, 
because although people may be blind to me, 
will soon see if not add to there vision 
as I constantly battle with division.

As I work on my cardiac
police want to arrest
another boring interaction 
as they live to arrest, 
I live for the test 
from my chest, 
phycology is a mind fuck, 
if you don't understand the intention, 
than intend to be stuck. 

Feeling divided as I recite this, 
do it for the real or the critics, 
fuck critics, 
only god can judge me 
and even then 
I will be my own jury; 

purple eye as I try to tap in my 3rd eye, 
but I keep my ball pen 
ramming and rhyming 
as I deal with the encounter 
of my own kind...

Human problems...

Heart is what I like to show, 
when I put in on show, 
people will take a poke,
my strings sings,
Vanessa may hymns, 
angels cry for it,
my heart is the closest 
thing to my spirit.  

My heart is reserved for those who show love, 
love is the hearts fuel, 
but runs empty in this contemporary, 
life is temporary, 
why are most brain dead? 
Not sure if I am talking to you god 
the voice in my head? 

Whatever the case, 
I am speaking from the heart, 
shining green in a state of dark, 
heart so light, 
Maat will confirm that 
Anubis will lead me through the after life, 
where there I will experience true life.

Seems like people want a piece 
of my mind than my heart, 
rather make me argue than 
beat to my rhythm, 
but play word darts. 

May as well tuck my heart under my sleeve,
 before people take it for granted 
stamp on it until it bleeds. 

Heart breaks people, 
Heart makes people, 
Heart is an instrument, 
which one needs to learn 
to experience the real, 
nothing fake about my heart, 
plastic love, glue the strings 
every time they pluck, 
so become a chicken to love,
 hen parties, 
divorce hearings, 
no one wants to hear love, 
rather listen to lust.

Blame poverty, 
a deluded reality 
they have the cheek to 
talk smack to me, 
I done laid the smack down, 
as I rock for the people, 
always keeping it real, 
never go with mind 
I go with heart 
act on how I feel.  



  1. AnonymousJune 29, 2015

    Superbe.patrick from Paris

    1. My man, well here is the poem I promised to mention you in, check it at my latest if not the link, you are a great link and have made a me have a better understanding. Peace Brother from Paris.